


Fjord, Perfect?

by voretaq7



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-03-26 21:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13866537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voretaq7/pseuds/voretaq7
Summary: A series of interludes with everyone's favorite half-orc Texblade warlock.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Fjord can't sleep. A mysterious stranger helps him calm his thoughts.  
> (Spoilers: C2E4)

Fjord crept back downstairs in the dark. He'd still been awake when Mollymauk came to bed, unsure whether he should close his eyes again after last night's dream. He took a seat at a table near the dwindling fire, hands covering his tired eyes, and sighed loudly.

"You did well tonight, nothing to sigh about." - Fjord's head jerked up in surprise at the unexpected voice to find a slim human in fine leather armor in the seat opposite his, light flecks of gray in his raven black hair. "Tonight's battle is not what you're pondering though, is it?" the stranger continued with a warm smile "No, you're thinking about that voice that haunts your dreams - am I right?"

Fjord made to answer, to politely excuse himself from the intrusion of this stranger, but the man slid his hand out on the table midway between them, and with a dull blue glow a dagger slowly took shape laying across the man's palm - jeweled and runed, a thin frost formed across the blade and a slight chill surrounding the table. It was there for a few seconds, then faded back as quickly as it had appeared. "I understand what you are, friend. My name is Thoral."

"Fjord." he said softly, looking up into the stranger's ice blue eyes.

"You should clean that, Fjord." Thoral said, gesturing at a smear of blood across the half-orc's worn leather armor. "My shop isn't far if you'd like help?"

Fjord nodded and followed the man down an alley to a small shop, undamaged by the gnoll raiders. The door stood open behind them and Fjord took in the fine tack and armor behind the low counter. He tensed as Thoral placed a hand on his shoulder "Easy... just let me..." the man unbuckled one of the straps "...help you out of these." Thoral placed Fjord's leathers on the counter and began cleaning and oiling them. He spoke softly as he worked "Do you want to tell me about the voice?"

"It was a dream," Fjord's voice was hoarse, just above a whisper "I was drowning. I... something talked to me... and..." Fjord trailed off, feeling a dampness on his leg he looked down and found the falchion in his hand, sheeting water to the ground. He dropped it in surprise, taking a hesitant step back. 

"It's alright Fjord. It appears like that sometimes yes? When you're nervous?" 

"What's it mean?" Fjord growled softly.

Thoral set aside the armor and placed his hand over Fjord's, stroking his thumb across the calloused knuckles "It means power" he locked eyes with the half-orc and continued, "and risk. You could lose yourself, or be consumed by the power."

Fjord tensed at those words, shoulders hunching inward as he stared at the hand atop his, the warm white thumb slowly circling around the back of his hand "I don't want to hurt my friends." he whispered.

"That's a good thing my young friend. Your heart is good, and that will protect you against the darkness that seeks to bend you to its will.

"But the dreams..."

"...are just one part of what you are becoming, Fjord. One piece of a delicate balance and negotiation you will have to make to find your destiny." Thoral's hand closed around Fjord's, and he stood, gently pulling the half-orc to his feet. With practiced movements he fastened the cleaned and oiled leathers - still worn, but looking slightly more dignified for having been cleaned and properly fitted. A gentle touch smoothed Fjord's hair back and brushed dampness from his cheek. "Hold true to yourself, and to your friends." the older man whispered, "And know that I will be here for you again if you should doubt yourself." A yawn escaped from Fjord's mouth, and Thoral's face cracked into a wry grin "Now go. Rest. Much lies ahead for you, and it won't do for you to face it exhausted."

Fjord started to thank the stranger, but found he had vanished - the shop, though still undamaged, stood empty. Fjord slowly walked back to the Feed & Mead and found his way to the room he shared with his companions. _Was it all in my head?_ he wondered, placing his leathers next to the bed. The last thing he noticed before sleep took him was the sheen on his old leather armor, glistening in the moonlight from the window, freshly cleaned and oiled...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interlude - Thoral and his blade have a "discussion" of sorts.  
> (No spoilers, no CR characters)

In the training yard between the rows of guards practicing their technique with sword and staff Thoral positioned a target dummy for his knife work. The long clear alley formed by the guards' backs gave an excellent chance to practice his aim, and while their battle cries and clanging weapons were no substitute for the heat of a real battle at least it wasn't the silence of an open field. He secured the dummy, turned, and counted off 100 paces from the target before spinning on his heel, hand over his shoulder starting a throw as he summoned his dagger to his hand… and promptly stumbled to the right.  
Looking down at his hand for the icy kris that had been his longtime companion he instead found a much larger and heavier weapon: A falchion, frost coating the blade as a cool fog sank to the dirt.

"Really?" he muttered as he lifted the blade to study it "Subtlety is not your strong suit, is it?" With a flourish he sliced through the air to test the sword's balance, chuckling at the line of fog as the blade vibrated in his hand. "You chose this form old friend. You know our arrangement, and I will…" _slash_ "…have…" _block_ "…my…" _parry_ "…practice!" With an even slice the blade slid through the dummy, a clean line of ice sealing both sides of the cut, and the warlock lifted the blade again with a grin "Brutish, but still quite effective."

Ignoring the stares and whispers from the newer guards he leaned against the wall of the training area and frowned at the blade in his hand. "So what do you want, eh old friend?"

The blade vibrated again and an image formed in Thoral's mind - a tall, tuskless half-orc walking down the road alongside a heavily-laden cart. "You want to find him again? Very well." Thoral stood "Show me where."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some more fluff: Fjord's bath at the Leaky Tap.
> 
> "Unless you really want to. Always stop me if you want to have a moment!" -Matt Mercer, DM
> 
> "MATT WE ALWAYS WANT TO HAVE A MOMENT!" - Critical Role Fandom pining for the Wet Naked Fjords.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shhhh.... spoilers! (C2E10)  
> 

Fjord walked into the Leaky Tap's washroom, unwinding the cord from around his armor, and jerked to a stop at Thoral's voice. "Hello again my green friend."

"Uh, sorry, I thought... didn't think anyone was in here." Fjord stammered, turning for the door. 

"Oh it's alright," Thoral said as he rose from the tub "you look like you need this more than me." Fjord turned away from the naked man, a deep green flush creeping over his face. "It's alright, I'm decent now." Thoral said softly, and Fjord turned to see him pulling on a dark blue shirt and buttoning it casually. With a nod in Fjord's direction he continued "Do you need a hand with your armor?"

"Uh, no... I got it." Fjord mumbled, fumbling with one of the buckles on his leather chest piece, awkwardly positioned behind his hip.

Thoral strode over and gently pushed Fjord's fingers aside "Let me help, it's easier from here." he said softly as he unbuckled the curiass. He felt Fjord's muscles stiffen as the remaining straps came loose and chuckled. "It's alright. I didn't hurt you last time, did I?"

Fjord shook his head and mumbled "Thanks." as he unbuckled his bracers and placed his armor on the ground near a chair, his back to the human. "Uh... you gonna stay?"

"If you'd like to talk I'm happy to." Thoral said, casually leaning against the wall. He watched some of the tension leave Fjord's muscles with the additional distance between them.

"Uh, could'jya turn around maybe?" Fjord asked, hands on his pants.

Thoral chuckled and turned to face the door. "Shy? Alright, let me know when you're safely in the water then." and he listened to the soft thud of each of Fjord's boots being placed by his armor followed by a rustling noise from his pants and a light splashing noise as the half-orc sank into the tub.

"Awright," Fjord growled "y' can turn around now I guess."

Thoral pulled the chair over and sat next to the tub, noticing the fang marks on Fjord's chest for the first time along with the other bruises the armor had hidden which were now blossoming on his green skin. He winced and gestured at the ragged scabs "Gods Fjord, what have you been getting yourself into?" 

"Jus' some trouble with a spider." Fjord ladled water over his shoulders, shivering as goosebumps appeared on his arms.

"Too cold?" Thoral picked up the pitcher of water and closed his eyes for a moment, then as steam started rising from the pitcher he carefully poured it into the water over Fjord's legs to warm the bath.

"Thanks." Fjord's eyes met Thoral's "Gotta show me how you do that."

"It's easy enough, something you could pick up if you're so inclined." Thoral returned to his seat and rummaged through a small traveler's bag before grunting in satisfaction and pulling out a small blue vial. "Here we go."  
He popped the stopper out and moved to pour the liquid on Fjord's chest, pausing when Fjord jerked back, lifting his torso out of the tub. "Woah, it's OK, see?" He poured the thick blue liquid on his own arm, and when Fjord's body relaxed back into the warm water Thoral poured a small amount on each of the fang marks. He reached out toward Fjord's chest slowly "Gonna touch, just to rub it in alright?" and when the half-orc made no move to pull away he massaged the oil into the bite marks. The dull throbbing ache of the bite faded, replaced with a warm almost tingling sensation.

"What is that stuff?" Fjord asked, watching the pale fingers tracing over his green skin as the scabs and bruises faded.

"Minor healing oil." Thoral stoppered the bottle and tucked it into his bag. "A gift from an old friend. Won't fix up any sort of serious injuries, but it helps with the aches and bruises." He spun the chair around and sat facing the tub, arms folded on the back of the chair. "So," he grinned "spider?"

Fjord nodded "Sneaky sonn'a bitch, got the drop on me and had its fangs in me before I knew what was happening, and it pulled this disappearin' trick. Kinda tough too, took a real beating."

"Mmh, big blue bastard right?" Fjord nodded "Get any venom off it?"

"Only what it pumped into me." Fjord's fingers traced the spots on his chest where the fang marks had been.

"Pity, stuff's rather useful in the right hands. Where'd you find it? Might be worth my making a field trip if there's a nest..." Thoral mused.

"Livin' in the sewers under the tri-spire. Was a bit of a nest but mah friends torched it pretty good, don' think there's much left."

"The sewers?" Throal's eyebrows rose for a moment before settling again. "For the best then. Even one of those in a city is..." he frowned for a moment "...suboptimal."

Fjord nodded "Bit of an understatement. Mean fuckers." He raked his wet fingers through his hair and frowned at the dark streaks on his hand.

"Want to wash that out?" Fjord nodded and Thoral stood behind the tub, taking the pitcher of warm water in his hand he poured it over Fjord's raven hair. 

As Thoral poured the water some ran over Fjord's face and the green man thrashed frantically, water splashing over the side of the basin as he jumped bolt upright with the sound of his pulse pounding frantically in his ears. Fjord tucked his knees against his chest - a soft keening whine catching in his throat. _Sinking. Drowning. No!_ He shuddered, feeling a palm sliding in slow circles between his shoulders and hearing the soft words over the pounding of his heart "...re alright, just breathe. That's it... you back with me friend?"

Fjord nodded "s'rry." he mumbled, shaking as he lowered his legs back into the water.

"'s alright - no water on the face. Got it." Thoral smiled down at Fjord. "Here, tilt your head back?" Fjord tentatively did as he was told and Thoral placed his left hand across Fjord's forehead, the webbing between thumb and forefinger pressing against Fjord's skin as warm water flowed through his hair. "There's a story to go with that reaction?"

"Yeah."

"...But you don't want to tell it." Thoral said matter-of-factly, crouching next to the tub.

"Not right now." Fjord swallowed hard, voice thick with emotion.

"Fair enough." Thoral pressed the knuckle of his index finger under Fjord's chin, tilting his head so they could see each other's eyes. He brushed his thumb between Fjord's chin and lower lip, tracing the spot where tusks should be protruding.

Fjord swallowed again, eyes darting down to the hand and back up to Thoral's eyes.

"I think you're as clean as you can get here." Thoral rose from the side of the tub and walked to the door. "I'll see you around, green friend." He smiled and slipped out the door quietly.

***

Fjord sat for a moment, then climbed out of the wash tub and wrapped a towel around himself, gathering his clothes and walking back toward his room. 

"She's going through your stuff you know." Mollymauk announced in their singsong voice as they walked by heading for the bar stairs. 

"Which one?" Fjord asked, walking more briskly. "NOTT?! WHAT THE FUCK!"


	4. Chapter 4: Sexiled

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Canon-divergent spoilers for C2E18 - Fjord's mysterious friend returns in The Pillow Trove

Fjord sat with his back against the wall, cheeks burning. Mollymauk was just _too much_ sometimes, and with those two _other_ people in the room right now? Doing _whatever_ they were doing?  
No. He was gonna stay right here, outside the door, 'til whatever was going on was done.

"Are you alright?" a soft voice and light footsteps approached from the end of the hall.

"Uh, yeah. That's my room. 's just... uh... occupied." Fjord mumbled, looking up to find Thoral standing over him as Mollymauk's laughter softly echoed through the door.

"Ah. I see." Thoral caught the slight reddish-brown flush darkening in the half-orc's cheeks and smiled, extending a hand. "Well, given the circumstances would you like to wait with me until your friend is… finished?" Fjord's hesitation was barely perceptible: He blinked, then nodded and took the offered hand and followed the now-familiar stranger into a room at the far side of the Pillow Trove.

Fjord glanced around the room for a moment, hoping to find some clues about his mysterious friend. Thoral's room was slightly larger than what he and Molly were sharing. A roll-top desk stood open with papers and ink scattered across the top. Thoral's blue traveler's cloak lay across the back of a red velvet-cushioned chair sitting askew from the desk. The sheets and curtains were light. Fine linen, Fjord imagined, or perhaps silk. The curtains fluttered in the evening breeze from the open window. He swallowed hard and spoke. "So, uh, this is where yer stayin'? In town?"

"For the night. I do prefer to return home, but tonight was… festive, and I'm a bit too tired for a journey at this point." Thoral poured a glass of wine as he spoke. "A festive evening for you as well, I assume? I enjoyed watching your group's battle."

"Oh. Ya saw that? Yeah. That was, uh... that was a bit rough." Fjord shrugged under the weight of his armor. "Worth it though, got some good coin for it.

"You fought well." Thoral poured a second glass and offered it to Fjord "I'm surprised you didn't choose to celebrate with your friend." Fjord coughed on his wine, his ears darkening to match the blush on his cheeks. He set the glass down and covered his mouth with his fist, staring down at the floor. 

Thoral grinned at the half-orc's response. "Ah. I see. Shy?" Fjord nodded and hefted his armor again, recovering from his temporary embarrassment. Thoral nodded at the leathers "You're safe here you know, would you like to take some of that off?"

Fjord shook his head "Don' have anythin' else ta wear right now."

"We're not that different in size," Thoral opened a drawer and retrieved a simple linen shirt and pants similar to what he wore, "these should fit you, and I assume they're more comfortable than your armor. Would you like some help?"

Fjord hesitated, his breath hitching in his throat for a split second before he nodded. Thoral set the light clothes on the desk and helped Fjord unwrap the cords and lacing from his bracers. His fingers worked quickly and Fjord's chestpiece opened and slid them off, leaving his bruised torso exposed to the cool night air.

Thoral brushed his fingers across one of the deeper bruises, frowning as Fjord recoilied from the touch. "I can help with these if you'd like..."

"Ya don't hafta do that... ah... 'm alright." Fjord whispered. He slumped at the attention, trying to make himself smaller.

"No, but I would like to." Thoral reached into his bag at the bedside and produced a small jar of salve, dipping his fingers in he continued "Please, let me." and his fingers pressed into Fjord's skin - a warm tingle over the bruises as they faded. "Better?"

Fjord nodded and started to say "Thanks" but jumped back when Thoral's hand touched his belt buckle. "Oh. You're shy." It was a statement, not a question, but Fjord nodded sheepishly. He opened his mouth to speak, but Thoral cut him off and offered the shirt with a chuckle "It's alright. I can turn around?"

Fjord bit at his lip, tongue rubbing across the tusk-nubs, and nodded "Please? Ah... 'm not shy so much, just..." A deep red flush was showing under his green skin. "'m not as…uh, gregarious, as some of my friends. I..."

"It's alright." Thoral turned to face the window "Let me know when you're decent."

Fjord's clothing clinked and rustled for a moment and he whispered "OK I'm… uh, I got clothes on." His armor was neatly piled on the chair and he stood in the thin linen clothes he'd been offered, green feet, hands, and head peeking out. He caught Thoral's appraising look and slipped a thumb under his lip and absently started worrying at one of his tusk-nubs.

"Do they hurt?"

Fjord quickly put his hand at the hem of his shirt, tugging lightly. "N-no, jus' a bad habit. Nerves 'n all." 

Thoral sat on the edge of the bed and took Fjord's hand in his. "Sit, relax." The voice soft as a thumb rubbed slow circles in Fjord's palm. "He rubbed rubbed a slow spiral in Fjord's calloused palm as the half-orc perched on the bed, a dark brown blush fading from his ears and cheeks. "That's better." Thoral smiled stroking his thumb over Fjord's palm. "Handsome guy like you, probably used to this huh?"

Fjord flushed again and pulled back nervously, a light sweat breaking out on his skin. "I..uh... no. I uh, don't... ah mean I haven't..."

"Okay, it's alright Fjord." Thoral slid his hand up from Fjord's hand, sliding over the half-orc's arm and over his shoulder. He gently rubbed and guided the half-orc's face to his shoulder and when Fjord's cheek touched the soft fabric of his shirt Fjord instinctively buried his face in the fabric and wrapped his arms around the wiry human. The scent of sage filled Fjord's nostrils and his mind churned with disconnected thoughts – _His new friends...The eye…Fear…Teasing… Drowning…Embarrassment…Pain_ – and a choked whimper escaped his throat. Thoral gently laced his fingers through Fjord's hair, stroking softly and whispering "It's alright, you're okay..."

"'M sorry." Fjord mumbled, starting to pull away.

Thoral leaned down, hand on the back of Fjord's neck as he met the half-orc's slitted yellow eyes to find them brimming with tears. "What's wrong Fjord?"

Fjord stammered softly "I… uh... ah mean, uh... nevermind. I should just, uh, go..." as his cheeks and ears darkened again. "M-Molly wouldn't want me hangin' 'round 'n all, but they're probably done now."

Thoral brushed his hand through Fjord's hair. "Hey. Why wouldn't they want you around?"

Fjord shook his head. "No one wants a half-orc. Nor for that." he said quietly. A tear ran down his cheek as he whispered "Ah'm a monster." voice cracking on the last word.

"No, Fjord." Thoral's knuckle lifted Fjord's chin, meeting his eyes. "Not a monster. I've seen enough to know you're not that."

Fjord shook his head n whispered "Weak. Monster. Damn Jonah." - with each word Thoral raked his fingers through Fjord's hair softly and replied "Strong. Protector. Albatross." 

Fjord looked up "Albatross 's just as bad as a Jonah on a ship ain't it?"

"Nope," Thoral wrapped his arms around Fjord's shoulders "Albatross was a good omen until some fool killed it. You are also a good omen my friend."

Fjord shook his head and tucked in closer to Thoral's body, tears falling silently and soaking into the man's shirt. He wasn't sure when but somewhere along the line Thoral had guided him to the bed, laying on his side now, curled up with his faze nuzzled into the human's chest. He tilted his chin up and mumbled sleepily "y' gon' kick me out? E'rryone does. Ah'm never..."

Thoral leaned and kissed the top of Fjord's head. "You can stay here as long as you like."

Fjord felt the man's arms tighten around around him, a foot gently guiding his leg until he found himself entwined with this man. _Cuddling like that book Jester let me borrow._ He burrowed his face into the strong body pressed against his and shut his eyes.

***

Fjord awoke curled around another body for the first time in a long while, and he tensed for a second before remembering how he got here. He quietly untangled himself, doing his best not to wake Thoral, started working his way into his leathers when he felt Thoral pat his back.

"Do you need help with your armor, Fjord?"

"I..uh, ah got it..." Fjord sat up, then started to stand. "'m sorry. I didn't mean ta..." Fjord started, but Thoral cut him off again.

"It's alright Fjord, I was happy to have you stay, and I'm glad to see you before you go. No need to sneak off." Thoral smiled and took the scratched leather chestpiece from Fjord's hands. "Ah, I see you've improved them. Pumat's work if I'm not mistaken." He gently guided the chestpiece over Fjord's head. He locked eyes with the half orc and flicked his thumb along the green skin of Fjord's lip, pressing over the tusk-nubs lightly. "Take care of yourself, alright big green? We'll meet again soon."

Fjord nodded and turned to go, but Thoral's hand on his shoulder stopped him as he was about to step through the door.

"Oh, one more thing." Thoral leaned in and whispered in Fjord's ear "Be careful what you put in your mouth. Even in a dream there can be... consequences."

Fjord spun on his heel, the question of "What...?" dying on his lips as he realized Thoral was no longer standing in the room.

"Oh Fjord there you are!" - Jester's musical voice boomed down the hallway as she ran over, grabbing his hand - "Come on, we're getting breakfast. I bet there will be SOOOOOOOO many pastries!" and he found himself being lead down the hall.


	5. Chapter 5: Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord Frustrated.

"Molly?" Fjord whispered. "You up?"

When no reply came Fjord stood quietly, opening the door just enough to slip out of their room and closing it silently. He slowly crept down the hallway of the inn and entered the common room. Looking at the corner furthest from the door he saw Thoral seated at a small table, facing the wall. He leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs and regarding two small glasses of cloudy green liquid, one balanced on the fingertips of each hand.

Fjord walked over, jaw set in determination. Summoning the Waste Hunter falchion he held it before Thoral, water sheeting to the floor, and growled "Tell me whut this is."

Thoral shifted his weight, catching the chair on his feet and settling to the floor. His shimmering blue eyes met Fjord's slitted yellow ones as he held out the glass in his left hand. "Drink."

"NO!" Ford snapped, "No more games! I don't know what this is" he hissed, slamming the blade flat on the table in frustration, "but it... I... It's making me DO things and I don't know _WHY_ I'm doin' em! Ya know somethin' so _TELL me dammit!_ " Fjord's breath was ragged as he stared down the mysterious man. "Are _you_ the one doin' this ta me?!"

"I am not." Thoral said quietly, still holding out the small glass. "Drink, Fjord."

Fjord snatched the glass and downed the contents, licorice-sweet liquid burning down the back of his throat. He slammed the glass down and glared at Thoral. "Fine. There. Happy?"

Thoral drained his own glass slowly, then nodded. "Sit."

Fjord took the seat opposite Thoral, still seething with anger but with a pleasantly warm tingling flush spreading over his body.

Thoral smiled at him and held both hands over the table, palms up. A mist and frost formed around his palms, coalescing into the shape of an ornately runed dagger. "Put your hands on mine." Thoral said quietly.

"Why?" Fjord stared across the table at the human.

Thoral stared back, eyes glittering. "So I can answer your questions."

Fjord swallowed hard and placed his hands over Thoral's. The cold metal of the dagger drained all the warmth from his hands, the cold creeping up his arms, mist traveling over his veins. The now-familiar voice in his head growled **Learn.** and the room began to grow dim.  
Fjord started to speak - "Wait! Wha..."

***

 _COLD._  
Fjord shivered, surrounded by icy whiteness as the wind whipped around his leather-clad body. A voice boomed from all directions - **INTRUDER!**.  
Fjord clamped his hands to his ears to shut out the thunderous voice that seemed to carry with the very winds themselves. **UNWELCOME!** came the voice again, painfully loud even through his hands as the cold intensified.  
Fjord felt frost forming on his skin as the wind roared against his body. **BEGONE!**  
The pain of the sound reverberating around him combined with the driving ice winds drove Fjord to his knees. Tears leaked from his eyes and froze in tracks along his face as his skull split with frozen fire.

"He _is_ welcome here." Thoral's voice rang out, and a hand on Fjord's shoulder spread warmth through his body. The winds whipped around the two men, driving ice stinging Fjord's face. The ground beneath him began to rumble, a dull grinding-groaning noise that reminded Fjord of a ship grounding on rocks. "He is with me." Thoral said, "You will not harm him."

The winds slowly died down and Fjord felt Thoral's hand squeeze his shoulder. He stood and turned to face the man, whose armor was now encased in a layer of white frost. "Where are we?"

"At the moment?" Thoral shrugged. "The Drowned Nest inn. Sitting at a table. In a dark corner."

"This is _not_ the inn." Fjord deadpanned, staring out across the seemingly infinite expanse of cracked and heaved ice around him.

"Indeed, it is not. I do not know where this place is." Thoral said. "I remember I was hunting," his voice low, a quiet and wistful tone. "a blizzard separatedmy party. My body got slow, heavy. I was so tired... I laid down in the snow, certain I would die..."  
Thoral crouched and circled his hand over the ground, a wall of mist and frost rising and settling into the outline of a body, frozen in a snow bank.  
"The wind came to me. It offered to return me to my home." Thoral locked eyes with Fjord "I did not want to die."

**

Fjord jerked back, the walls of the tavern snapping back into his vision. He wiped frozen tear streaks from his face and watched as the frost patterns on Thoral's armor slowly sublimated away.

Thoral flipped the dagger in his right hand and rested the hilt on the table, palm balanced on the tip of the blade. "When I woke, I was clutching this." he said softly. "I walked for two days, back to my village. I was the only one to survive." Thoral pressed his hand onto the dagger, the blade sinking into his palm as his hand slid toward the surface of the table. He raised his palm, a thin line of ice where Fjord expected to see blood.  
"It demands protection," Thoral said quietly. "It demands my loyalty. I do not know exactly what it is I wield, but it is of the ice kingdom. It is bound to those lands, and I am bound to the ice kingdom through it."  
Thoral nodded to the falchion on the table between them "I suspect that you bear a similar bond."

Fjord picked up the falchion, regarding the new yellow eye peering back from it warily. "Is it dangerous?" he whispered.

Thoral hesitated a moment, then nodded. "Yes. I believe it can be. I have learned to.... negotiate with my blade. It drives me - it insisted I find you, for example - but I can defy its wishes when our desires conflict.

"Can... can I.... Will I hurt my friends?" Fjord asked tentatively, searching Thoral's eyes.

"Do you wish to hurt them?" Thoral asked, and Fjord shook his head with a look of determination. "Then you will not." Laying his hand over Fjords Thoral spoke gently. "You are bound, Fjord. We have this in common. But you know in your heart as I do that this bond can be broken if you feel you must."  
Thoral rose from the table. "Know that it will cost you dearly should you break your bond. Much of what has been given to you will be taken. But your friends? They, I believe, would remain."  
A warm smile crossed Thoral's face "And now I believe I should rest. I suspect I will have to answer for our little field trip."

Fjord grabbed Thoral's wrist before he could walk away, worried about what consequences his mysterious friend might face. "Are... Will you be alright?"

Thoral smiled and nodded. "I was tasked to seek you out, after all. It was not specific as to what I should do beyond that. I believe I was wholly reasonable in my actions, and if it disagrees…" Thoral shrugged.  
"A lesson in why we should always be specific in our instructions." he grinned.

Fjord released his grip, satisfied that he'd not endangered his mysterious friend. As Thoral turned and walked toward the door he called after him "Hey. What was in that there drink?"

"La fée verte." Thoral replied over his shoulder, closing the door to the in behind him and disappearing into the night.

Fjord ran a hand down his face and stood slowly, a dizzy buzz from the liquor still humming in his head. "Fuckin' mysterious." He mumbled to himself, slowly making his way back to his room. "Never gon' get a straight answer." He quietly opened the door and crept back inside, sinking to the floor and curling up to sleep.

 _Am I really okay?_ he thought, _Can I trust him?_  
Fjord's eyes closed slowly as a restful, dreamless sleep came to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally written in an hour after watching tonight's episode.  
> I'm probably going to despise this if I read it in the morning :-)


	6. Chapter 6: Molly (Interlude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Fjord's trip, Mollymauk has some questions.

Fjord stood, stretching languidly. _A good night's rest, finally._ He turned to find his now-frequent roommate leaning on the door, arms crossed over his outrageous robe.

"So, where did you go last night?" Molly queried casually.

"Ah went to see a friend." Fjord drawled.

"Anyone I know?" Molly's voice tinkled melodically and Fjord felt the tendrils of a persuasive enchantment flittering at the edges of his mind.

Fjord Shook his head, pushing the magic aside. "Dammit Molly quit that! I toldjya you c'n just ask!"

"I'm still not sure you'd tell me." Molly replied. "I'm not sure if you know what you know."

Fjord sat on the bed, rubbing his palms over his face. "Ah know Molly, and I git that yer tryin' ta help." Fjord drawled. He looked up at Mollymauk's kind purple face with a sigh. "It just... It hurts when you do that." Fjord said, his voice small and tentative. "Not like gettin' troll gunk on me or nothin' just... hurts that ya don't trust me."

Molly nodded. "And do you trust us, Fjord?"

Fjord nodded. "I do, Molly I confided in ya 'cuz I know you wouldn't... ya won't let anything happen to me right?"

"I won't Fjord. Like I said, we keep each other safe." Molly sat beside the half orc, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "And that also means keeping you safe from dangerous friends." He added.

"Don't think he's dangerous." Fjord leaned into Mollymauk's touch, thumb sliding under his lip to pick at his tusks.

Lightly swatting Fjord's hand Molly asked "Do we know him?"

"No." Fjord moved his hands to his lap guiltily. "'m sorry." Taking a deep breath Fjord continued "He... ah think he can help me understand some of what's happening to me. 'n I don't think he's gonna hurt me, or anyone in the group." The memory of the ice-voice booming in his head made hum pause for a moment "Think he'd go out of his way to protect us actually."

"That sounds like a good friend." Molly smiled. "Maybe you'll introduce me some time?"

"Maybe..." Fjord drawled, "I c'n ask 'im. Dunno how sociable he is, seems to try to stay outta the way, but I get the feelin' he's watchin' us. Kinda keepin' an eye out, y'know?"

Molly nodded. "And you would tell me if anything changes? If you start thinking this friend isn't what he appears to be?"

Fjord nodded honestly. "I would. You'd be th' first."

"Good enough." Mollymauk declared, standing and offering Fjord a hand up. "Let's get on then. Breakfast to have, shopping to do!"

Fjord groaned. _Shopping. Ugh._ but gamely followed his friend out into the common room of the inn to join their companions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 15 minutes for this one.
> 
> The hurt tone Travis picked when Fjord told Molly "You could have just asked" kinda struck me.
> 
> I get why Molly would charm Fjord: He doesn't know what Fjord does/doesn't know about his patron, and he wants the whole truth along with maybe a chance to inspect this weird sword that's affecting his new friend. But my read of that scene is that Fjord felt a little betrayed by the fact that his roommate wouldn't trust him enough to just ask, like "I'm being honest here: I really don't know what's happening to me and I'm scared. I trusted you enough to say that, but you don't trust me enough to just be there for me when I need someone."


	7. Mighty Drunk!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor, drunk, sick Fjord.

Fjord staggered up the stairs, weaving unsteadily. "Wh'rs tha pisser?" He mumbled, stumbling into the wall and laughing at himself. He staggered to the door, pushing it open and falling in against the wall. " _*Urp*_ Here it is! hehehe" Sinking against the wall he chuckled to himself "Found it..." - another man stepped into the small room and Fjord grunted "Huh...wait...wuh..."

Thoral slid in, tankard in hand, and stood over Fjord. "Hello friend." he smiled and knelt in front of the half-orc "You're looking a shade greener than usual tonight. Having a good time?"

"Uh.. yup. Ah.. _*URP*_ " Fjord bent over the hole in the floor and retched, foamy liquor coming up as he fought the sensation.

Thoral set his tankard aside and knelt next to the booze-weakened half-orc, rubbing on the back of his armor. "Oh you poor thing!" he pulled a small vial out of his pocket and popped the stopper out. "Here. Rinse, don't swallow."

Fjord swished the liquid in his mouth and spit down the hole, a hot-clean minty taste replacing the bitterness of vomit and half-digested alcohol. "T- _*URP*_ -anks." he slurred, falling back against the wall limply.

Thoral gently wiped a small trail of the mint oil from Fjord's cheek. "You're quite drunk, aren't you?"

"Yer quite muss...mess...miss-steer-ee-issssss" the half-orc slurred, sloppily poking Thoral's chest, "ain'tcha?"

Thoral smiled and took Fjord's hand. "Indeed I am."

"Why?" Fjord asked, leaning into Thoral's face. "Why y' so m'steer-us? Juss wann' be fr'nds." he slurred, shoulder slumping against the human's chest. "Lil frien'ship." Fjord tugged at Thoral's shirt, a button popping open as he tugged the man closer.

Thoral slipped his hand around Fjords, holding it loosely. "Friendship?" he said softly, "I think I catch your meaning, but I'm not sure you're..."

"Ah been with s'mbody b'fore!" Fjord protested, face flushing a light brown "Know wh' ahm doin'!" The half orc slumped heavily against Thoral, hand fumbling one of the buttons on the human's shirt open. "Jus' frien's..." he mumbled softly."  
Thoral took both of Fjord's green hands in his own and the half-orc tried to pull them away. "Lemmie!" he mumbled, hands twisting free and landing on Thoral's shoulders as the boozy half-orc fell against the human's chest. "Don' wanna... not... none a that." Fjord slurred languidly. "Jus' fren'ship." He looked up, eyes glassy "Don' sen' me 'way?"

Thoral sighed and curled an arm around Fjord's shoulders, the half-orc turning his face to lay against his chest, Thoral rested a finger on Fjord's lip gently, holding him back. "It's OK Fjord." The human said softly.

"'s OK?" Fjord mumbled softly. "Don' want more? E'rryone always wants... more." Fjord drawled against Thoral's shirt.

Plying his fingers through Fjord's hair Thoral shook his head. "This is fine. Unconventional setting though." Thoral looked around the small water closet and chuckled.  
Fjord retched, trying to swallow down the wave of nausea, and Thoral gently aimed him at the hole, rubbing Fjord's back gently. "Let it come up, it'll help." 

Fjord shook his head, resisting for a few seconds before another wave of vomit erupted. He took the offered bottle from Thoral and rinsed the bitter taste from his mouth again, mumbling "Sorry...thanks...'m sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for. Everyone's entitled to have a wild night now and then." Thoral sat against the wall and allowed Fjord to lean against him, cradling the half-orc as a drunken sleep came to him.

***

Mollymauk knocked on the door as he pushed it open, finding Fjord sleeping on top of a human he didn't recognize. "Oh, hello!" Molly lilted drunkenly, grinning at the scene. "Am I interrupting? I DO hope I'm interrupting..."

"Ah, you're one of young Fjord's friends, aren't you?" Thoral asked, recognizing the gregarious tiefling.

"Indeed I am!" Molly crowed. "Mollymauk Tealeaf, Molly to my friends, and I assume you're the one Fjord has been sneaking off to see didn't think he had such romantic trysts in him."

Thoral shook his head. "I'm Thoral, and while I'm quite fond of our young half-orc here I would never take advantage of him - or anyone - in this state." Regarding the tiefling carefully he continued "Can I trust the same of you, Mollymauk Tealeaf?"

Molly scanned the human's face and nodded. "That's what you do when you're with a group of people, isn't it? You look after each other, keep each other safe."

"Will he be staying with you?" Thoral asked, cradling the sleeping half-orc in his arms.

"I believe he will at that." Molly bent to lift Fjord and Thoral met him halfway, holding Fjord's torso.

Thoral helped Molly carry the unconscious Fjord back to their room, tucking the half-orc into the bed. As Thoral turned to go Fjord pawed at his arm "Don' go. Friend." He mumbled, plaintively squeezing at the fabric of Thoral's shirt. "Fren'..."  
Thoral leaned close, shushing Fjord, and whispered something to the half orc who nodded sadly. Thoral kissed Fjord's lower lip, gently grazing over the tusk-bulges, then stepped back and with a nod to Mollymauk walked out into the hall and disappeared into the tavern.

**Author's Note:**

> I *may* do more of these as Fjord finds out more about his patron.
> 
> I'm obviously making some assumptions about Fjord's patron, his background, and how much he actually knows about what's going on with him. I'm hesitant to develop too much of a through-line here that might be insanely different from the way Travis & Matt take the character.


End file.
